A bit like the protagonist (Albert Finney) in Saturday Night, Sunday Morning, we woke feeling at less than our best. Jet lag, it’s a beast.
At 8am it was a trip to a recommended pastry shop and coffee. At 9am the travel insurer called from down under and delayed our departure. The late getaway was compounded by Uber software glitching with a poor internet signal.
As a result of the latter, we arrived at the wrong entrance of the Royal Academy of Arts to be confronted by steps. After much struggling the RA proffered a wheelchair and the rest of our visit to the Summer Exhibition was relaxed and very enjoyable.
We met up with Pete’s sister Jayne & husband Mark and brother Simon and wife Tabby. The first time we’ve met up in a couple of years. We all took our time wandering the galleries, admiring or scorning the myriad artworks on display. The Summer Exhibition is one of those English events that punctuate the social calendar.
Lunch was booked at Langan’s Brasserie, a 10 minute stroll down Piccadilly. Except, of course, it wasn’t 10 minutes or a stroll for Sharon. She was absolutely frazzled by the time we got there.
Today’s music is Michael Caine by Madness. He started and for many years owned Langan’s.
Birthday cards, presents and family memorabilia for Pete. 70. Who knew? It was also Tabby’s birthday in two days so it was a bit of a duel affair.
Great food, great wine, great company. Pete argues that there are only two restaurants in London that he really loves, Langan’s being one of them.
Variously we had snails, tempura courgette flowers, salmon, pea risotto and salad as starters. Mains were bangers & mash (Pete), ribeye Sunday roast (Sharon), Suffolk lamb, ribeye steak, tempura courgette flowers. The wine; a fine Chablis followed by a St Estephe claret.
Puffed and tired we hugged and said our goodbyes. Pete’s siblings to rural England, us to our hotel.
The joy of the London cabbie! Firstly, he had a seat that swung out into the street, making Sharon’s ingress and egress silky smooth. Secondly, he knew everything, had seen it all, picked up the Gallagher brothers (not together) and had a mate in New Zealand.
(Oasis were playing in London that night.)
In the hotel we fell asleep early, woke early. Pete didn’t sleep again. Sharon’s melatonin gummies worked wonders for her.
Jet lag. It’s a beast.
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